Siles was briefly at a loss, slightly startled by the metaphor from his former mentor. He awkwardly touched the bridge of his nose and said, “The rain was heavier this morning.”
“Keep warm, young man,” Professor Bright sighed. “When you’re older, you’ll regret the recklessness of your youth.”
“I will, Professor,” Siles said. “You should take care of your health too.”
Professor Bright snorted. “My health is fine.” He looked Siles over. “Maybe even better than yours.”
Siles remained silent.
Professor Bright lazily changed the subject. “You already know your schedule for next term, right?”
Siles nodded.
His schedule for next term was much the same as this term’s: two general electives and one major elective. The major elective was the same course as in the first semester, continuing into the second.
Professor Bright suddenly said, “Next term I only have two classes, one for students in basic education and one for apprentices. I’m thinking of having you substitute for one or two sessions occasionally. What do you think?”
Siles paused.
He realized this was Professor Bright deliberately paving the way for him. The professor was getting old, and in another year or two he would very likely retire.
But there were not many reserve professors in the College of Literature and History, especially in literary history. Siles himself had been able to step directly into a professorship only because he was filling the vacancy left by Professor Cabel’s departure.
In other words, once Professor Bright retired, there would be even more of a shortage in literary history teaching positions.
As a young professor, Siles was supposed to take on more responsibilities.
His schedule should really have been fuller, but because he had been brought in temporarily, and because the college felt he was still too young and wanted to assess him further, he had only three classes per semester, and even his apprentices were two so-called “problem students.”
Now, Professor Bright was clearly trying to give him more responsibility, and Siles accepted gladly. He understood the older professor’s meaning: his former mentor was helping him accumulate more credentials.
Professor Bright nodded in satisfaction. “Of course, you don’t need to worry. Temporary substitute professors receive class-hour pay from the academy.” He gave Siles an unmistakable look. “Three ducal coins per class hour.”
In general, a specialized elective like Professor Bright’s would have at least two or three class hours. In other words, each time Siles filled in, he would earn one-sixth of his salary.
Though Siles was no longer short of money, he still said quietly, “The academy’s benefits have always been excellent.”
“Of course,” Professor Bright said. “Otherwise, how could I have let my best student come here and be a professor at Lamifa University?”
Siles smiled and thanked him.
As they were talking, the dean of the College of Literature and History and several other professors arrived. Then came a long meeting and discussion. Siles was still too junior to take part in such debates—after all, he did not have last year’s “results.”
He was happy to stay relaxed, so he listened in and took notes on some key points.
For example, this year’s winter break would run from October 18 to November 8, a total of three weeks. It was a little longer than Siles had expected, probably because the rainy season at the end of October would last longer this year.
Also, every year at the beginning of spring break, which lasted a full month, the academy would send several professors to other universities for visits and scholarly exchange. Next year’s list and destination universities had not yet been finalized, but the academy was already discussing them.
Siles was somewhat interested in this, but he was very self-aware and knew he was probably not going to be selected. These academic exchanges had only four slots in the entire College of Literature and History, and they were not limited to literary history alone.
Professors from literature, history, archaeology… those departments were more competitive.
Siles simply noted it for the time being. After all, one had to write down something during a meeting.
The meeting was long, and different departments had different matters to discuss. Siles gradually drifted off mentally, thinking about the club activity that afternoon and the arrangements for the weekend.
Around eleven o’clock, the meeting finally ended.
Professor Bright could not sit still any longer and left immediately. Siles left a little later and happened to run into the dean of the college as he was leaving.
The dean saw Siles and said, “Professor Noel?”
Siles stopped and greeted him. “Professor Hester.”
The dean of the College of Literature and History was named Nolan Hester, a man in his fifties or so. When Siles was still a student, the only real interaction he had with him was on transcripts and the signature line of his graduation thesis.
However, during the professor interview at the end of July, he had indeed met Professor Hester and spoken with him.
The impression Professor Hester had left on Siles was that of a stern, serious scholar who rarely smiled.
In recent years, he had focused on administrative work and did not often teach students, but when Siles was still in school, he had heard older students talk about Professor Hester. They all said he was extremely strict.
From that perspective, Professor Hester likely approved very much of Siles’s demands on students in class.
Professor Hester said, “A semester has passed. How do you feel?”
“The students are all very diligent, and the other professors are very kind. I’m working hard to meet the standard of a qualified professor,” Siles replied.
Professor Hester smiled faintly. “I’ve heard some of the students’… opinions about you. I think your methods are very effective. Exams… yes, they really are a very good way to test what students have learned.”
Siles: “…”
He thought, That’s terrible. Students in this other world are going to be ruled by exam papers too.
But… he had already graduated. Besides, he was a professor.
So Siles said, “Indeed. Course papers alone are not enough to test what students have truly mastered.”
Professor Hester nodded. The more he looked at Siles, the more satisfied he became with the young professor—of course, everything required comparison. If he compared Professor Noel with Professor Cabel…
Professor Hester could not help saying, “You’re still very young. At your age, what you’re doing now is already good enough. If Professor Cabel saw a successor like you, he would surely be very pleased.”
Siles’s heart stirred, and he said, “Thank you for the compliment. Speaking of Professor Cabel, he left a lot of materials and manuscripts in his office. Would those be useful for Professor Cabel’s research? Perhaps I should…”
“His research?” Professor Hester revealed a trace of subtle disdain without even meaning to. “No, it’s nothing. You may dispose of those things as you wish. Since he left them behind, it means he no longer needs them.”
Siles nodded and asked tentatively, “Professor Cabel… what exactly was he researching?”
Professor Hester looked at Siles, then sighed. “I can tell you about it, but only so you understand not to research those things yourself. Do you understand?”
Siles lowered his voice. “I understand.”
Professor Hester said, “Where should I begin… For a young man your age, it may be hard to imagine that the former Professor Cabel was once a very prominent figure at Lamifa University.”
Siles asked, “Because of his… research?”
“No, because of his reputation as a ‘mad genius,’” Professor Hester said meaningfully. “He and I studied under the same mentor. At the time, our mentor had intended to choose one of us to inherit his position, and in the end, he chose me.
“Cabel, however, left Lamifa University and disappeared for a very long time. After that, people almost forgot him. It wasn’t until seven years ago that he appeared at Lamifa University again and asked me for a job.
“At that time, he looked very… down on his luck.”
That was the word Professor Hester finally chose.
Siles listened in silence.
“Not because he lacked money,” Professor Hester said. “I knew Cabel’s family background. His family had enough assets to support him. It was just that the research he pursued after graduation seemed to have left his mental state in a very… low place.”
Siles followed up, “What exactly was Professor Cabel researching?”
“I’m not completely sure either,” Professor Hester said after some thought. “He once vaguely told me a few things, but I couldn’t really say. He always seemed to be researching ancient books, originals, first editions, and the like, buried deep in those histories.
“…This is not a good habit, and perhaps you should know that. Those are all things buried by time, Professor Noel. Even if we study history and literature, we cannot become so obsessed with them.
“As for what exactly he was researching, I didn’t pry too deeply… These days, a scholar’s research topic is a very private matter. He did once tell me that he came to Lamifa University to search for some materials, some information. I don’t know whether he found them.
“Whatever the case, with his knowledge, becoming a professor of literary history was more than enough.”
Siles nodded thoughtfully.
These were things he already knew, and things he had already suspected. Professor Cabel had suddenly come to Lamifa University seven years ago, so he must have had some purpose.
According to Siles’s theory, Professor Cabel must have found some sort of material… but the borrowing records at the university library gave no clues, and his daily life had revealed nothing either.
In this respect, the church and the police must have conducted a rather thorough investigation long ago.
A university… what could a university possibly provide? A library, professors, students…
Then Siles suddenly asked, “Do you know if Professor Cabel was close with any particular professor on campus? I can’t just throw away the materials he left behind. It would be best to give them to a friend of his to keep.”
Professor Hester did not suspect the intention behind the question. After thinking for a moment, he said, “A professor on campus… I once saw him having dinner with Professor Dunlop.
“That was several years ago. I never saw him being so close with anyone else, so it left a deep impression on me.”
…Professor Dunlop? The archaeology professor?
Siles paused, then thanked Professor Hester. The dean shook his head, encouraged him a few more words, and left.
Siles walked slowly toward the cafeteria, thinking over what Professor Hester had told him.
Professor Cabel and… Professor Dunlop? He never would have thought those two could be connected.
Siles didn’t know much about Professor Dunlop. The only impressions he had came from his roommate Lorenzo, who mentioned that Professor Dunlop valued archaeological practice more than theoretical knowledge, which was why he had brought Herman into the archaeological team.
What could Professor Cabel have been interested in about Professor Dunlop? His knowledge? His archaeological team?
Siles suddenly wondered if Professor Cabel had approached Professor Dunlop on his own because of the archaeological expedition Dunlop had undertaken back then, wanting to learn the details more deeply?
Weren’t they already suspecting that Professor Cabel had gone to the Ashless Land? If Professor Cabel and Assistant Mervin were still in the Duchy of Konst, there was no way there would be no news of them for so long. The only possibility was that they had secretly left Const and slipped away to the Ashless Land.
Based on Siles and Dominic’s analysis of Mrs. Deblis’s letters, Professor Cabel’s trip to the Ashless Land was very likely to search for a possible place where a god had fallen.
And Professor Dunlop often traveled to the Ashless Land for archaeological expeditions, so perhaps he held information that Professor Cabel wanted to know.
Professor Cabel had come to Lamifa University seven years ago… seven years?
Siles stopped walking at the entrance to the cafeteria. He did not continue inside. Instead, he stepped back two paces, walked to the side of the cafeteria, and stood there quietly, trying to catch that flash of inspiration.
Seven years ago—if connected to archaeology, that time felt far too familiar.
Mrs. Longman had once said that about seven years ago, Alfonso Caleyr publicly claimed that he had discovered the ruins of a tribe. She also said that an archaeological team had gone to the Ashless Land at the time, but found nothing.
And then there was Doctor Chester Fitzroy. He is about thirty now. If, when he was still in school, he had once gone to the Ashless Land with Professor Dunlop’s archaeological team, then that would have been about…
Seven years ago.
Siles’s eyes widened slightly, and then without hesitation he turned and quickly headed toward the infirmary on the side of the castle.
Inside the infirmary, Chester was sitting alone, apparently organizing patient records.
When Siles suddenly walked in, Chester said in surprise, “Professor Noel! What’s wrong? Is there a problem with your glasses?”
Siles shook his head, his gaze fixed on Chester. That look made Chester somewhat uneasy.
After a moment, Siles said, “Doctor Chester, you’ve been to the Ashless Land before, haven’t you?”
For a split second, Chester’s expression stiffened. After a moment, he calmly concealed the oddness in his face. He said, “Yes. Seven years ago. Why? How did you know?”
Siles paused, then said, “It’s like this. You may not know this, but at the end of this semester, Professor Dunlop will be leading a team to the Ashless Land again. One of my students has been selected to go with him for archaeology.
“I heard that a doctor once went along on an archaeological trip, so I guessed it might have been you. After all, you’ve been at the university all these years, haven’t you? So I thought I’d come and ask what precautions there are for going to the Ashless Land.
“I also want to go to the Ashless Land during the winter break and look around. Just a trip for scenery and travel.”
As he spoke, Chester’s expression gradually relaxed. He said, “I see. You are very perceptive. Yes, I did go to the Ashless Land with Professor Dunlop, but that time we… found nothing.”
He paused instinctively before the final four words.
Siles gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile. He sat down opposite Chester and said, “Even so, being able to go to the Ashless Land means your medical skill must be quite impressive.”
“No, your praise is too generous,” Chester said. “Honestly, I was very nervous at the time. Fortunately, Professor Dunlop didn’t discover anything, and we didn’t run into any danger.”
Siles then asked, “You found nothing at all? But since you had already set out…”
“You may not be familiar with the details of that expedition,” Chester explained. “At the time, someone claimed to have discovered a tribal ruin in the Ashless Land, something people had never found before.
“Professor Dunlop, as an archaeology scholar, immediately wanted to go and investigate. But that person refused to reveal the exact location of the ruin, only hinting at its approximate whereabouts.
“So after we set out, we searched around that area for a long time and found nothing. In the end, we had to return empty-handed. People later suspected that person of being a sensationalist, and no one wanted to look for the ruin after that.”
Siles thought that such a situation might very well have been exactly what Alfonso wanted.
Alfonso wanted to make the tribal ruin public, but he did not want people to go to such a dangerous place. In the end, he could only bear the blame himself.
After Chester finished speaking, Siles said, “So that’s how it was. Professor Dunlop must have been full of anticipation when he set out. If someone could uncover relevant clues, he would surely be very relieved.”
Chester’s expression stiffened again, and this time he did not reply immediately. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“…What’s wrong?” Siles asked, as if only now belatedly noticing Chester’s strange demeanor.
Chester sat there, and his warm face gradually twisted. In the end, he actually began to cry uncontrollably. The crying was filled with regret, remorse, and unwillingness, as if those guilty emotions had been brewing in his heart for a long time and now suddenly burst forth.
Siles stared at him in surprise, unsure what to say.
“…I’m sorry,” Chester said after a while, his emotions finally settling down. In a low, hoarse voice, he said, “That experience, those things… they’ve been hidden in my heart for too long. I’m sorry… I失态了.”
Siles shook his head and said cautiously, “I was too impulsive.”
Chester gave a bitter smile.
He said, “I am a doctor…” he murmured softly. “I am a doctor, do you understand? I should have helped… those patients.”
Listening to him, a thought slowly emerged in Siles’s mind—had Chester once stood by and done nothing while someone died?
Was that the reason for the earlier psychological judgment? Was that the root of Chester’s previous lie?
“I am very willing to help those who ask me for help. I am a doctor, am I not?” Those were Chester’s earlier words. And from the way he was now finally revealing his hidden guilt after losing control, he had clearly once refused someone’s request for help.
After a moment of silence, Siles said, “If you don’t mind, perhaps you can tell me what happened.”
Chester looked at him for a while, then said, “Can I trust you?” His voice was very hoarse, his tone suppressed, carrying an extreme heaviness. His eyes fixed tightly on Siles.
Siles nodded and was just about to speak.
The dice rolled.
You need to make a social skill check.
Siles paused.
Social skill?
This seemed to be the first time he had triggered a check for this skill. Judging from the flow of the conversation, this check would decide whether Chester chose to tell everything.
But… was what Chester was about to say really so important that the dice gave him a check on its own?
As he thought that, the dice automatically completed the roll.
Social Skill: 45/0, Critical Success.
See that big zero? You feel like you’re cheating. In fact, you are cheating. Of course, no need to thank me. This is what the dice should do.
Siles: “…”
He felt like the dice’s explanations had become more and more… lively lately.
As he thought this, he heard his own low voice speak uncontrollably:
“Please rest assured. I would be very willing to hear your difficulties.”
Chester looked relieved, then said with a bitter smile, “Thank you… thank you for still being willing to… listen to these things. Someone like me… a doctor who betrayed his duty.”
He fell silent for a moment.
Siles watched quietly, waiting patiently.
“…On that night when we found nothing,” Chester finally began, “the reluctant Professor Dunlop decided to stay one more day at our campsite and continue searching. It was a cold night.
“I was alone in the tent. I couldn’t sleep. It was too cold. So I decided to get up and move around. I left the tent and warmed myself by the campfire. Everyone else was already asleep.
“It was then that I heard a miserable cry and wail from far away. The place where we were camped was in a wasteland, surrounded by withered grass.
“At the time, I was still young and full of curiosity. When I followed Professor Dunlop to the Ashless Land, I had fully expected to discover something strange and extraordinary… but I was disappointed.
“So that night, when I heard those cries… I just happened to be unable to sleep, and I felt this trip was too boring… so I walked toward the sound…”
As he said this, Chester’s gaze gradually became empty and dazed. He paused involuntarily, fear, nervousness, and deep guilt flashing across his face.
Siles did not interrupt, only listened in silence.
“…It was a person. I can’t really describe it… maybe it could no longer even be called a person,” Chester said in a low voice. “The lower half of his body had become a statue. When I saw him, he was using both hands to drag his heavy lower body and crawling on the ground.”
Siles froze, a chill rising sharply in his heart.
…Again, statues?
Chester said, “When he saw me, he desperately lifted his upper body and shouted for help. He had crawled on the ground for who knows how long. His fingers, his upper body—everything was a bloody mess.
“But the scene was too terrifying… the cold moonlight, the withered wasteland, the half-man half-statue crawling on the ground, the howling wind around us, the bloodstains on the earth, the unseen tribal ruin…
“I was terrified. I couldn’t believe I had encountered such a monster. I completely ignored his cries for help. I didn’t know how to save someone like that… how had he become a statue…
“…So I ran. I ran in panic, as if being chased by the most terrifying thing under heaven. I fled back to my tent and stayed awake all night. By dawn, when everyone had dispersed to search for the tribal ruin…
“I alone quietly went back to where I had seen that… that person the night before. I only saw… a patch of gray-white lime residue. Nothing else…”
His voice began to tremble, growing lower, weaker, and more frightened. He looked at Siles almost pleadingly. “Do you think I killed him? Was I guilty of letting him die? Did I kill him?”
After thinking for a moment, Siles said very rationally, “No. Doctor Chester, at the time you were simply terrified. Besides, I don’t think he could have been saved anymore.”
A person whose lower half had turned into a statue… or who had been sealed into one. Siles did not think Chester could have saved him.
Chester looked at him. After a long while, he said in a low voice, “Maybe that’s true. But I still can’t… forgive myself. I considered myself an excellent doctor… do you understand that feeling?”
“But in reality, I couldn’t save everyone.”
Siles said, “You are being too hard on yourself.”
“Please don’t comfort me,” Chester said with a bitter smile. “Of course, I’m grateful for your kindness… but I cannot be that kind to myself.”
Siles silently sighed.
“The Ashless Land is truly a terrible place, isn’t it?” Chester murmured. “I’m afraid I’ll never dare go there again in my life. As for your student, I hope you can warn him that if he hears anything strange during the excavation, he absolutely must not go to investigate.
“That could very well become… the source of his lifelong nightmare…”
Siles nodded and seriously agreed, “I will remind him.”
Chester continued, “As for you… I believe that after hearing all this, you should have some idea of what the Ashless Land is like. It’s a mad, secret-filled place.
“If I could, I would hope you never go there in your life. But… I think you must have your own judgments and thoughts. In any case… please be sure to stay safe.”
“I will,” Siles said quietly.
After saying all this, Chester looked completely dispirited. However, the gloom in his expression had lessened somewhat. He seemed somewhat dazed.
Siles then said, “If you have nothing this afternoon, why not go back and rest a while? I mean…”
“I understand. Thank you for your concern,” Chester said slowly, nodding. “I’ll rest here for a while. Going back would be too far—you know, that’s in the West City.”
Siles nodded, told him to rest well, then said goodbye and left the infirmary.
As he left, he couldn’t help thinking that he had not expected this visit, which had started only from a sudden impulse, to yield so much.
Seven years ago, Alfonso Cailer publicly announced that he had discovered the ruins of a tribe in the Ashless Land.
Hearing this, Professor Dunlop decided to lead a team to the Ashless Land to explore the ruins, and brought along Chester Fitzroy, who was then still a medical student.
Alfonso only told them the approximate location of the ruin. They searched for a long time without success and returned empty-handed. But by chance, on that very night, Chester accidentally encountered a man whose lower half had turned into a statue, and fled in panic. That scene became the nightmare of his life.
And when they returned to Lamifa City, Professor Cabel entered Lamifa University as a professor and—apparently intentionally or unintentionally—began interacting with Professor Dunlop.
At that moment, Siles suddenly remembered that Alfonso was actually also an honorary professor at Lamifa University. In other words, Professor Cabel might have once been in contact with Alfonso.
If he could prove this, then he could confirm the conclusion: Professor Cabel had decided to come to Lamifa University at least in part because of the tribal ruin Alfonso discovered.
He still remembered that Mrs. Longman had once said that Alfonso had presented some “object” belonging to that tribal ruin as proof that he had indeed discovered a ruin. Perhaps that thing had happened to attract Professor Cabel’s attention?
Of course, this was only Siles’s guess.
Before linking Professor Cabel to those archaeological events of the past, Siles had never considered such a possibility. He had always thought of Professor Cabel as the kind of frail scholar who buried himself in the library.
Archaeology? That did not seem to suit Professor Cabel at all.
But… Siles thought again of what Mrs. Longman had said.
She said Professor Cabel always returned books late, and the books he returned were never quite clean.
Siles had once noticed those stains on the cover of The Lost Inheritance. They looked like black mud.
If those stains came from Professor Cabel’s archaeological research, for example if he had bought antiquities stolen from burial pits on the black market or obtained them by other means and brought them back to a safe house for study…
Those objects might still have carried dirt from the excavation process, and later transferred onto the books Professor Cabel borrowed.
Professor Cabel seemed to be collecting things related to gods. The items placed in his office already proved that.
Siles was at least half convinced that Professor Cabel had made up his mind to enter Lamifa University because of the tribal ruin Alfonso discovered.
Of course, not entirely for that reason.
Siles suspected that at the time, Professor Cabel’s own research had run into some sort of impasse. So he needed to find other channels and connections to gather more information.
And the professor of literary history at Lamifa University was a very suitable identity.
A university professor—respectable enough. Literary history as a field—convenient for coming into contact with ancient books and antiquities.
Siles could not help thinking that if he could find evidence proving Professor Cabel had indeed had contact with Alfonso, that would be ideal. Unfortunately, Alfonso was now in the Ashless Land…
Was there any other way?
After thinking for a while, Siles suddenly thought of the Folklore Society.
Alfonso’s activities in Lamifa City seemed to have been limited to Lamifa University and the Folklore Society. Of course, in the early days he must have dealt with some newspapers and publishing houses, but if Professor Cabel wanted to find him, he might not have had the contacts to do so there.
The Folklore Society was different.
The last time Siles went to the Folklore Society, he had been able to pass through freely simply by showing his identity as a Lamifa University professor, without being stopped by the gatekeeper.
In other words, after entering Lamifa University, if Professor Cabel could not find Alfonso and could not obtain information from Professor Dunlop—which was quite possible, since the former rarely appeared at Lamifa University and the latter had found nothing at all—then he might have gone to the Folklore Society.
Perhaps he had already gone there before, only to be turned away. Thus, after becoming a professor at Lamifa University, he may well have gone there again.
If that was the case, the guards at the Folklore Society might still remember Professor Cabel… Of course, that was seven years ago. If Siles came up empty-handed, he would not be surprised.
In any case, he could try to gather some information from the Folklore Society.
Thinking of this, Siles could not help letting out a breath of relief. He felt that he had made considerable progress regarding Professor Cabel’s disappearance.
However, viewed from another angle, Professor Cabel also seemed to be connected to the “Non-existent City.”
That was neither entirely good nor entirely bad.
Alfonso had once said that the ruin they discovered back then did indeed count, in a sense, as a kind of “Non-existent City,” since it had not been recorded on any map.
But they did not believe the two were equivalent. They believed they had only discovered an abandoned ruin, not the city that had been passed down in the Ashless Land for a hundred years.
They were tight-lipped about what exactly happened there, and Siles did not know why Alfonso was so certain.
In any case, their discovery had led to the various experiences of Professor Cabel, Professor Dunlop, and Doctor Chester—especially Chester.
The man whose lower half turned into a statue…
Siles almost involuntarily thought of the female head statue in Professor Cabel’s office, the behavior in The Lost Inheritance of Huddokar’s believers sealing themselves into statues, and the statues mentioned by the explorer Fredman before his death.
There was even the “statues looking up at the sky” mentioned by his apprentice Jules.
Statues, statues, statues. All of it was statues. And all of it revolved around one deity: Huddokar.
Huddokar. The god of sin and lies, the shadow side of the world.
After arriving in the world of Fisher, his first encounter with Huddokar had been during an experiment to remove spiritual contamination.
Colin Lane, an Enlightener from the Third Corridor, had long used the power path of Huddokar—the “Sin Apostle” rituals—and had therefore fallen under the contamination of the will of a previous protector, which led him into Siles’s experiment.
After that, the second time he encountered a Huddokar-related concept was in The Lost Inheritance, where a diary belonging to a Huddokar believer contained the line: “I erect a statue for my god; my god strips death from me.”
Their practice was to seal their own corpses into statues after suicide, apparently in order to escape death.
This strange and eerie behavior occurred during some period of the Silent Age. The book did not make the timing very clear. Siles did not know whether Huddokar had already fallen by then.
The time of Huddokar’s fall… Siles thought for a moment and slowly recalled. The god seemed to have fallen in the early Silent Age. He could not remember the exact time—he was not a history specialist.
After thinking a bit more, Siles shook his head. The exact timing of Huddokar’s fall was not the key issue. The important thing was the statues.
The man Chester had encountered, whose lower half had become a statue… Siles thought there were two possibilities.
Either it was some supernatural power that directly turned a person’s body into a cold sculpture; or it was man-made, with someone using sculptural material—stone, clay, and so on—to seal the man’s lower body.
Either way, it meant some “person” had done this.
…A believer of Huddokar?
But according to the records in The Lost Inheritance, this practice should have been voluntary. Yet that man, dragging his heavy statue-like lower body with both hands while trying to flee and even seeking help from others, was clearly not voluntary.
Had this group of old-god followers completely gone mad over the long span of time, or was it something else?
What exactly was that man’s identity?
Siles absentmindedly walked a stretch along the road outside the main castle of Lamifa University. Only when the gloomy sky began to scatter cold raindrops did he suddenly come back to himself.
He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. It was already twelve-thirty.
So he hurried to the cafeteria for lunch, then went to the club meeting room on the first floor.
Fifteen students were already gathered in the classroom.
“Professor, good afternoon.” They all greeted Siles.
Siles nodded at them, briefly reviewed this semester’s club activities, and also mentioned some ideas for next semester’s activities.
He intended to make the students more active and more willing to participate in club activities themselves, instead of only listening to him speak. The lecture model had already been used countless times in class.
But that would be a matter for next semester. Siles only brought it up briefly and did not go into depth.
After that, he let the students speak freely.
Naturally, the students quickly turned their attention to Herman Grove. After all, this gathering was held to send him off.
They asked many questions. For example, what needed to be prepared for an archaeological expedition, how long they would be away, and how Herman had managed to join the academy’s archaeological team so quickly.
Herman answered them one by one. As for the last question, he simply said he was lucky.
Siles sat to the side listening. The lively, enthusiastic voices and laughter of the young students always helped him escape the heavy pressure of this world’s past history.
At that moment, Kellogg suddenly handed him several sheets of paper.
Siles took them.
Kellogg said, “I’ve finished translating them, Professor. I hope they can help you.”
Siles thanked her. Kellogg waved it off, signaling that no thanks were necessary, then turned back to join the students’ conversation with Herman.
Siles heard them asking curiously about the archaeological site. Herman only said it was an underground tomb belonging to a Silent Age noble. Their expedition might take several months, and perhaps they would not return before the third term.
Siles listened for a while, then lowered his eyes to the translation Kellogg had prepared. He did not notice that as he bent over to read, the surrounding voices of conversation quietly softened as well.
“…”
“September 25.
“Today I finally arrived at Hell’s House. Continuing through that mad wasteland, I feel like I’m going insane.
“I ran into an explorer I had once drunk with before. I don’t know his real name; people usually call him Karl. Karl secretly told me that someone had recently been selling treasure maps in Hell’s House and told me to buy one too.
“…Tch. I don’t want to buy some treasure map of unknown origin.
“…
“September 27.
“I still ended up with that treasure map, though not by buying it. Someone had been drinking with me, and only after he finished did I learn he had no money at all—he had bought the map on credit. What an idiot.
“So he used the treasure map to pay off the debt. I looked at the map… very interesting.
“…
“October 3.
“Today I left Hell’s House. I’d been here for many days. When I left, another group was also preparing to leave. I asked them and only then learned they were going to the location marked on the treasure map.
“…Honestly, I hesitated. Having spent so many years in the Ashless Land, I already know its rules and style very well. I could live safely and boringly here for my entire life, or I could choose a life of danger and opportunity.
“How a person lives—doesn’t it still come down to choice?
“So I followed their group.
“…
“October 6.
“They’re all dead. As for me. I’m also going to die.”
Beneath that sentence, Kellogg had written a small note. This was the final line of the entire travelogue.
Siles froze there.
